


A Hobbit's Tale, Re-Told

by varenoea2



Category: The Hobbit, the lord of the rings
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 08:52:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9064837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/varenoea2/pseuds/varenoea2
Summary: Exactly the story you know and love. Just... a little different. 
Not for the faint of heart.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own the characters in this story, or the story itself. They belong to J.R.R. Tolkien. I'm borrowing them for a piece of fanfiction, and I make no money off of this. 
> 
> I have nothing but the greatest respect for Tolkien, not just because of his books, but also because he once put his dentures on the conveyor belt in a supermarket to surprise the cashier.

A hobbit's tale: How I got there, and back again.

 

_From the personal diary of Bilbo Baggins (esq). Found many years after his death, buried in the back yard of Bag End, under a very big rock, with a sign: "Do not move rock, on pain of death."_

 

 

March 20st.

 

Dear diary,

Got a visit from Gandalf. You know, that old wizard who insists on showing everybody his "staff". He asked me if I was up for some fun. I told him I was not interested.

 

 

March 21st.

 

Dear diary,

Today, the most awful thing happened: I got visited by fourteen dwarves! And as soon as they're through the door, they take off their clothes and start sodomizing each other all over the place! On the hearthrug, on the kitchen table, in my favourite chair… in between shagging, they sing bawdy songs, and tell me they want me to go with them, on an adventure. I told them I was not interested in the kind of spelunking they do.

And then Gandalf joined the party, and this was when the fun was really over! I tell you, I never want to see his staff again in my life!

They left my house after they were all done, but the place is a mess and their juices of passion are everywhere. Everywhere, I tell you!

 

 

March 22nd.

 

What the hell am I doing here?

I never wanted to join this party of insane, man-whorish dwarves, but here I am, going on their adventure with them. I guess it must have been a tiny part of my mind that, in an inexplicable magical way, intrigued me about their lustful ways.

They're all eyeing me hungrily. And my pony.

Help.

 

 

April 14th.

 

Dear diary,

My life keeps getting more and more dreadful. Today I practiced my burglaring skills by sneaking up on three big trolls. I shouldn't have! Because one of them had a golden ring in his… oh well… in his trollhood, and I could not resist. I did not want to go back to the dwarves empty-handed. So I tried to sneak up silently and steal it, but of course I was caught!

 

Oh, I shall never forget what happened after that. These dreadful hours when they used me for their basest desires… when one troll would use me, and then pass me on to the next… their big strong rock-hard trollhoods stretching me and making me scream and think of things I never dreamed of… ahem. It was terrible.

Then the dwarves came to rescue me, but the trolls were already satisfied and not interested in a round of dwarf-stuffing. Then Gandalf came and showed them his staff, and they begged him to stop it, and said they would let us all go if Gandalf only put his staff away. He did, and we went. But I also took the one troll's ring – I suppose I am not such a bad burglar after all!

There was a key attached to it, and it helped us open the troll cave and plunder their treasures. Well, their treasures were mostly well-used lust devices in unmistakable shapes. But we found some very useful swords, and Thorin gave me a little one. Now I can protect my honour!

 

 

April 15th.

 

I discovered that my little hobbit glows blue when Orcs are near! I asked Gandalf if this was a disease, but he answered it was perfectly normal to experience this when in possession of an Elvish sword.

 

 

May 25th.

 

Dear diary,

 

I finally have time to write again!

We have arrived in Rivendell, a beautiful valley inhabited by Elves. Elves must be the prettiest creatures in Middle Earth: they sing and laugh all day – mostly very naughty songs – and chase each other playfully, which always ends in a romp on the grass. And I don't mean in the good way.

The dwarves find it very pleasant here. No wonder, Elves mate with everything that crosses their path. Elrond, a great Elf lord, has explained our route, but I think I was the only one who was listening.

Well, I'll admit, I nipped off with an Elf or two as well. In fact, one of them is pounding me vigorously as I'm writing.

Gandalf is starting to give me lustful looks. I don't like it. Although I'm curious, I'll admit that.

 

 

May 30th.

 

Not good, dear diary. Not good at all.

 

We slept in a cave which turned out to be the entrance of an Orc lair. While we were sleeping (and some were playing what the Dwarves call "tunnelling"), Orcs came out of the walls and abducted us into the caves under the mountain. They did not take Gandalf. I guess they know why.

They brought us before their king, and he meant to keep us as lust slaves for his people. I could not survive in there. I'm too gorgeous! Especially since I am the only one without a beard.

Then suddenly, something flashed in the darkness – it was Gandalf's staff! This distracted the Big Goblin so thoroughly that we had a moment to run away.

We escaped through the darkness, but then I fell and hit my head.

 

When I came to, I thought that maybe an Orc had taken advantage of my helpless state, but to my great disappointment, it was not so. Instead, I stumbled about, found a ring, and walked on until I came to a pool. In there lived a slimy, disgusting thing, which called itself Gollum, and which would not let me pass until I had given it what the Dwarves call "a symphony on Glarin's horn", several times. The creature is apparently called "Gollum" because it likes the noises people make when they take his worm deep into heir throats.

I guess not a lot of people do this for him these days. He is incredibly disgusting.

I escaped and made my way through the cave, and out. The Dwarves had already found a way through, and were waiting for me in the wood outside the mountain. They were so happy to see me that they celebrated the meeting with an immediate orgy.

But at least I found that the ring (if worn on one's penis) makes its wearer invisible. This gives me an escape from their spontaneous orgies, if need be.

 

Don't ask me how I found out in the first place. I had a perfectly sensible reason for putting a new-found ring on my lust-staff, I promise.

 

 

July 1st.

 

Today, we were ambushed by wolves. They were somewhat distracted by Gandalf's staff, but not for long. We all climbed into trees and Gandalf shot his hot manly juice at them, hoping they would give up, but to no avail. Finally, we were rescued by eagles who were apparently all paramours of Gandalf. He has special friends everywhere, I reckon.

Long story short: they rescued us, but there was a price to pay. I still have beak bites all over my back. Ow.

 

 

July 2nd.

 

Today, we arrived at another one of Gandalf's fuck buddies' houses. The friend in question is a very hairy, strangely attractive man, who is hugely hung and does not let anyone in doubt about the fact. Gandalf monopolized him for the entire stay. If I could only get a minute alone with Beorn (that was his name), then I'm sure we could have had a lovely time. But no. All I received was a horn-blowing from one of his talking goats.

 

 

July 5th.

 

Gandalf has parted from us. He says he has "urgent business" to take care of for a while. I just hope his urgent business was nothing contagious. I succumbed to my attraction for him the other day.

 

 

July 30th.

 

Dear diary,

 

We have been in Mirkwood for almost two weeks now. I despise this place. It is dreadfully gloomy, and we're out of food.

Even worse, we keep seeing these cheerful parties where scantily-clad Elven maidens and boys are amusing themselves in the woods; whenever we try to join, we are thrown out. I guess it's the beards.

I lost the others today. At first I was afraid. A big spider came up to me and tried to have its way with me, but I stabbed it before it could stab me (pardon the pun). I then named my sword Sting. It's a nice euphemism.

Then I found the Dwarves, tied up in a tree, covered from head to toes in spider lovemilk. What do they get themselves into when I'm not around?

I fought the spiders, with my magic ring on, and stabbed quite a few of them while they were unaware of me. And I fucked a few too, just for the sake of surprise.

Finally, I could free the Dwarves, but then the next problem occurred: they were all captured by Wood-Elves. They are not cheerful and lusty like the Elves in Rivendell! They are grim and do not ask whether someone wants a romp with them.

Since Thorin and all the other Dwarves refused to give themselves up for the Elves' nefarious sexual appetite (trying to "protect their innocence", hahaha), they were all locked up until they would agree to sleep with the king.

Only me they did not catch, because I wore the magic ring. I can move freely about the castle, and what's more, I can grope every Elf's bottom without him noticing!

 

Oh, what have I become.

 

 

August 30th.

 

Dear diary,

 

I helped my friends to escape from the Wood-Elves' castle, but are they grateful? Do they promise to fulfil every one of my carnal desires for years to come, until my seeds run dry? No. Not even a horn-blowing.

I did it by cunningly stowing them all away into barrels, and waiting until the Elves shipped the barrels down the river, to the city of Dale.

Then I freed them from the barrels. But not a single friendly word came over their lips. Thorin even complained that his barrel had been "tighter than Bombur's arse on a cold day". Still, we went up to the city, and were welcomed and given dry clothes.

I have to get used to being visible again. I thought it was funny to walk around with my little hobbit hanging out while I was invisible, but it is not so funny when everybody can see it.

This rough life on the road is taking its toll on my mind.

 

 

October 1st.

 

We have finally reached Mount Doom!

Unfortunately, there doesn't seem to be a way in.

 

 

October 5th.

 

We have found the way in!

Into Bombur, that is. For some reason, we lost our overview over his body, and his back door got lost for a day or two. We found it again, fortunately.

 

 

October 6th.

 

We have found the way in!

Unfortunately, it is me who was sent down to talk to Smaug, the dragon. Am I the only one who thinks "smaug" sounds like "smegma"?

I climbed down a long shaft and came to a cave, where I saw a jewel-covered dragon sleeping on a bed of gold and silver. Just to show the dwarves how capable I am, I took a large silver phallus off the wall and brought it up while the dragon slept.

How could I have known that the dragon was still using it?

 

 

October 7th.

 

This time, I went down again to talk to the dragon. Smaug (tee hee) was mighty displeased about my theft. He was, however, also very lonely, and tried to convince me to join him on his bed of gold.

I declined, and he was very angry, and spat fire after me. He nearly succeeded in killing me. But now my heart is hardened. After the last few months, nothing can easily scare me.

 

 

October 10th.

 

We have been caught here in the corridor to Smaug's cave for days now, and the dwarves are getting impatient, because their lubricant is running out.

So today we went down to the treasures. This distracted the dwarves for a while. I found a very pretty stone called the "Arkenstone". I knew Thorin wanted it, but I did not have the heart to give it to him. So I hid it. You know where.

 

 

October 15th.

 

Oh shit.

 

Apparently Smaug is so angry about the loss of his favourite toy that he destroyed the city of Dale. He cruelly laid the whole city in ruin by spraying his acidic passion-juice.

Now the angry troops from the city have put the dragon's cave under siege. They want a personal apology, a part of the treasures, and a shag. Thorin is willing to give them the latter, but not the first two.

 

 

October 20th.

 

I have decided to commit treason. I see no other way. I can not stand their faces any more. Also, carrying that Arkenstone around has been much of a bother lately. I have to keep the others away from my bottom, or else they will discover that I have the stone.

So I left the cave secretly, and joined the Lake People. I offered them the Arkenstone to help them soften Thorin's mind.

And I met Gandalf again! I'm strangely happy to see him. I did not even disagree when he offered to show me his staff.

 

 

October 23rd.

 

A terrible battle happened! Orcs, Elves, Lake People, the Dwarves, and some of Thorin's relatives too! We won – barely. We, that is, everybody but the Orcs!

I was dragged away as a spoil of war, but fortunately they dragged me into the camp of the Lake People. Gandalf recognized me and brought me to Thorin, who was dying and wanted to thank me for "all the good tunnelling" we shared together.

It is sad that he is dead. The dragon is also dead, that is the upside. Bard, the leader of the Lake army, shot it right through the privates with an arrow, and it fell off the sky and died.

 

 

So this adventure is over.

 

 

March 2nd.

 

Sorry for not writing in so long, dear diary, but nothing interesting happened.

 

Gandalf and me travelled back to the Shire; we stopped by Beorn along the way, and I finally found out personally why Gandalf is so fond of him!

 

When I came home this morning, the Shire people were trying to flog my belongings, because I had been declared dead! Several people even refused to give back my things even after I had shown them that I wasn't dead!

 

Fortunately, I have learned ways to get my belongings back from them.

 

Burglary? Oh yes, that too.


End file.
